Reunion
by TitansRule
Summary: Identifying a Jane Doe she met at the beginning of her career saves Jess's life and reunites a broken family. But it also forces her to confront demons long forgotten. Flack/Angell; Mac/Claire.
1. Alive

**Disclaimer: I don't own CSI: NY. I do own Dr. Michaels, Detective Serena Carter and Detective Jameson.  
****Series: None.  
****Spoilers: **_**Pay Up**_**; **_**Taxi.**_

* * *

Chapter One

Don Flack was breaking quite a few traffic laws.

It had been two hours since the 'Officer down' call had come over the radio and the only thing that could make it through the haze of panic was one word.

_Jess …_

He'd left early that morning, hadn't even been there when she woke up, and he was regretting it now, regretting not taking that last chance to hold her.

Didn't he know? Hadn't he always avoided deep relationships with co-workers for that very reason; that they could both die without a moment's notice?

But she had managed it; pushed her way through, past his defences, and into a corner of his heart that would, he knew, always belong to her.

He had arrived at the diner minutes after the ambulance pulled away, but the pool of blood in front of the counter spoke for itself. He'd gotten the name of the hospital from the nearest uni and sped off.

He parked haphazardly outside and sprinted inside, ignoring the receptionist on duty in favour of hurrying to ICU, knowing that's where she'd be – you didn't lose that amount of blood and walk away.

As he reached the waiting room, a doctor was walking out of the OR, scrubs stained with blood.

Don's heart sank and he held up his badge. "My partner …"

The doctor sighed. "I'm sorry, Detective; she lost too much blood. We couldn't save her."

The whole world ground to a halt around him and he sank into a chair.

Jess couldn't be _dead_.

The doctor put a hand on his shoulder. "You can see her, if you like."

He didn't want to. He didn't want to walk in there and see her lying still, knowing she'd never move again, never smile at him again.

But he had to.

Because it was the only way he'd believe it.

He nodded numbly and stood up, following the doctor on shaky legs into the operating room, where a sheet-covered body still lay, not yet moved to the morgue where Sid Hammerback would go to collect her – Don knew he'd come personally when it was one of their own – before taking her back to the ME's office and …

Don shuddered, trying not to think about it.

Jess _hated_ autopsies.

He took a deep breath and nodded to the doctor, who pulled the sheet back.

His heart stopped again, then stuttered back to life, relief and guilt filling him in a nano-second.

"That's not her."

The doctor looked surprised. "She is a detective."

"She is." Don confirmed, looking down at Detective Serena Carter. "But she's not my partner. Jess … Detective Angell was supposed to be on Grand Jury duty today, not Detective Carter."

The doctor's expression softened. "You and the other detective are more than just partners, right?"

Don nodded, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair out of Serena's face. "But that doesn't matter. What does matter is we've lost a cop and I shouldn't be feeling relieved right now." He nodded and the doctor covered her face again.

Five minutes later, Don sat in his departmental sedan, sending a mass-message to all the CSIs. _It's not Jess._

It was crude, he knew, and he'd explain in greater detail when he met up with them, but they didn't deserve to be kept waiting – not for that – and Don didn't think he could drive just yet. Not safely.

A sudden wetness on his face made him realise he was crying and he swiped the tears away angrily.

He had no reason to cry; Jess was alright.

As far as he knew.

He found himself dialling her number automatically, putting the phone on speaker, his hands shaking too much to hold the phone, but needing to hear her voice.

"_Angell."_

Her voice filled the inside of the car, cool and collected, and his head dropped back against the headrest, another wave of relief filling him.

"_Hello?"_

"Jess …" He began, then stopped.

"_Don?" _She asked. _"What's wrong?"_

"Connor Dunbrook was kidnapped." He stated bluntly. "Serena's dead."

He waited for her reaction, but there was silence.

"Jess?" He prompted. "Just tell me you're okay, sweetheart."

* * *

"_Serena's dead."_

Jess heart stopped, the face of the newest detective appearing in her mind, a kind smile and sharp eyes. She was supposed to be there.

It should have been her.

Maybe it wouldn't have been her. She'd been a detective, a cop, longer. Maybe she'd have done something Serena didn't.

Her mouth worked, but no words left her.

"_Jess?" _Don's worried voice asked. _"Just tell me you're okay, sweetheart."_

He never called her that in public or on the phone.

He'd never been one for 'pet-names' anyway, which was fine by her, because neither was she.

When they were alone, he called her 'sweetheart' occasionally, but that was it.

In public, the closest he got was 'Jessie', which she'd always hated, but didn't mind so much when it came from him.

"I'm fine." She heard herself say. "I'm in Jersey City."

"_Thank God." _He whispered, and she could have sworn she heard a choked sob on the other end of the phone. _"What …?"_

"What happened?" Jess interrupted.

"_I'm not entirely sure." _Don admitted. _"I thought she was you. Got to the diner, saw the amount of blood and got straight to the hospital. I didn't stop to take witness statements. She was shot, I know that. Doctors removed two bullets; she died in surgery. Hang on; he gave me the bullets to take to the lab." _There was a pause, then he cursed softly.

"What?" Jess asked.

"_50 cal." _He stated grimly. _"I'm gonna take a guess and say Desert Eagle."  
_

Jess's legs gave out and she sank onto a bench, guilt evaporating in an instant. She wouldn't have survived either; Serena hadn't stood a chance. "Oh God …"

"_Don't say it, Jessie."_

"It should've been me, Don." Jess whispered. "It could've been me."

"_Believe me, Jess, I know that." _Don said darkly. _"But it wasn't you. It wasn't you."_

"It wasn't me." Jess agreed, sensing that he needed her to say it.

"_Now why are you in Jersey City?" _Don asked. _"Sythe said you were on jury duty this morning." _His voice shook slightly.

"I took a day." Jess sighed. "I didn't wanna say anything to you in case I was wrong."

"_Wrong about what?" _Don prompted. _"Talk it out, Detective."_

Jess smiled weakly, even though she knew he couldn't see her. "One of my first cases as a uniform. Woman walked into the City Hospital complaining of headaches and memory loss. We put her picture in the local paper but she's still a Jane Doe; slipped into a coma a day later. The detective assigned to the case passed it off as a trip or fall and a bad bang to the head."

"_Something tells me you didn't agree with him." _Don commented.

"It was September 12th 2001." Jess told him. "I thought she might've come from Ground Zero; said that we should get the lab to test her clothes and circulate her picture wider. But I was a newbie and Jersey City's the worst when it comes to being a woman in the force. The detective assigned – Jameson – he …" She hesitated, knowing that Don wouldn't take what she was about to say very well. "He ignored me for two weeks and then said he'd do that … if I slept with him."

There was a pause in which she could only imagine how he was going to react, then …

"_I hope you told him where to go."_

"You took that better than I thought." Jess commented.

"_You can't read my mind." _Don retorted. _"What did you do?"_

Jess snorted. "Told him to go fuck himself. Then went to the hospital and apologised to her, but I wouldn't degrade myself."

"_She'd forgive you, Jess." _Don told her. _"Why now? Why today?"_

"It's been bugging me for over a year." Jess bit her lip, wondering whether to divulge her suspicions.

"_What?" _Don asked.

Jess sighed. "I think she's Mac's wife."

Don was silent for a minute and she held her breath, praying he wouldn't laugh her off. _"Why?" _He asked finally.

Jess breathed a sigh of relief, mentally chiding herself for thinking even for a second that he would react like that. But old habits died hard, especially when she was back in this city. "Well, she was definitely married; had engagements and wedding rings. I didn't even think about it until last year – Reed looks just like her."

"_You're sure?_" Don asked.

"No." Jess admitted. "That's why I'm here."

"_Alright." _Don said. _"Keep me posted, alright?"_

"I will." Jess assured him. "I'll see you tonight?"

"_You know you will."_ Don's voice was warm and affectionate, even over the hesitation in his voice. He sighed. _"Look, Jessie, today scared the hell out of me and … I can't do this over the phone, but … you know I do, right?"_

Jess smiled shakily, hearing his unspoken words. "I know. I do too."

"_Good."_ The relief was tangible in his voice. _"I'll see you later."_

"Yeah." Jess agreed. "See you." She hung up the phone and entered the hospital, heading the long-term ICU, flashing her badge when she reached the desk. "Jane Doe. Came in September 12th 2001. Still Room 468?"

"One minute, Detective." The nurse pressed a few keys. "Yes, she is."

Jess thanked her and found the room easily, silent but for the soft noise of a heart monitor.

Jane Doe – possible Claire Conrad-Taylor – lay in a white hospital bed, eyes closed, dark hair fanned out on her pillow, her breathing deep and even.

Unlike many of the coma patients in the long-term ward, she was breathing unaided, no tube protruding from her throat, allowing Jess to see her face clearly.

When Reed Garret had been attacked by the Cabbie Killer, it was Jess who had accompanied him and Mac back to the hospital to allow Don to head up the search, and she could now see what Mac had always said; Reed looked a lot like his mother.

Jess thought she should probably call Don and tell him she was right, or contact Mac and give him the good news, but still doubt niggled in the back of her mind.

Taking the lone seat beside the hospital cot, Jess leaned in, taking the woman's hand. "Mrs. Taylor? Claire? If you can hear me, I need you to squeeze my hand."

There was a pause in which even the hustle and bustle of the hospital seemed to cease.

Then the woman's finger's contracted gently and Jess sucked in a breath. "Claire?"

Dark eyes opened and her lips curved into a soft smile Jess remembered seeing on Reed when he woke up and saw Mac.

"Officer Angell." Claire greeted in a whisper. "I remember."

Jess wasn't sure if she meant her name or her own identity, but it didn't matter. "I know." She pressed a button next to the IV drip.

A nurse stuck her head round the door, saw Claire awake and disappeared again to find a doctor.

"Did Mac find me?" Claire asked, trying to lift her head.

"No." Jess said gently. "And lie still for now. It's May 20th 2009. You were believed dead after the events of 9/11."

"That's what they're calling it?" Claire asked.

Jess nodded grimly. "It's one of the worst terrorist acts America's seen. I work with Mac at NYPD." She glanced up as the doctor walked in and recognised him from 2001; he had also disagreed with the detective's conclusion, which should make this meeting relatively pleasant. "Dr. Michaels."

It was clear he remembered her as well. "Officer Angell. Day off?"

Jess nodded. "But I'm not an officer anymore. I was promoted to homicide detective three years ago, NYPD."

"Congratulations." Michaels redirected his smile at Claire. "I'm Dr. Kevin Michaels."

"Claire Conrad-Taylor." Claire returned. "I was working in the World Trade Centre."

"I knew it." Dr. Michaels muttered. "I hope you're going to have a word with that man, Detective."

Jess gave him a feral grin and stood up. "It's a tempting thought, but no. I'm going to call her husband and let him do it."

"Wait, Detective?" Claire called, trying unsuccessfully to sit up again. "You said you moved to NYPD three years ago?"

"I did." Jess confirmed, pausing in her journey to the door.

"If you've worked with Mac for three years, why did it take you so long to recognise me?" Claire asked.

Jess sighed. "First of all, Claire, please call me Jess. Secondly, I never asked about you. Mac's a very private man and, while I consider him a good friend, I personally believe that if someone doesn't offer personal information, you shouldn't go looking for it. I'm sure there is a picture of you in his office, but I've never looked for it. I met Reed about a year ago and it bugged me for months why he looked so familiar. And then it hit me about one o'clock this morning and I took a day and came here."

"Reed?" Claire asked, looking confused.

Jess flinched, realising that she should probably have let Mac deliver this piece of news, but it was too late now. "Your son." She elaborated gently. "He came looking for you and found Mac."

Claire's face lit up and Jess half-remembered Mac mentioning in a tense hospital waiting room that Claire had always wanted to find him when he turned 18 and that he'd been given up out of love rather than abandonment. "What's he like?" She asked eagerly.

Jess smiled. "You're better off asking Mac; I don't really know him. He's a journalist; has his own blog. He's … persistent." She admitted. "And I'm glad he and Mac get along, because otherwise he could be a real thorn in our side. No offence."

"None taken." Claire assured her, a look of pride in her eyes.

"Ask Mac when he gets here." Jess repeated. "He knows the kid better than me. I'm just going to call him." She added, seeing the look in her eyes. She nodded to Dr. Michaels and left the hospital, stopping to the side of the door, perching on a low wall that bore a bed of red and yellow pansies.

The heat, which had seemed stifling that morning, especially when she got that call, now seemed comforting and Jess almost forgot about the shooting that morning at the diner.

Almost.

She closed her eyes and whispered a silent prayer of gratitude that it hadn't been her, that she'd talked her CO into giving her a personal day. Her hand moved to her pocket where her St. Michael cross lay and closed around it as she added a second silent prayer for Serena.

Blinking back tears, Jess sent a quick text to Don confirming her suspicions, before dialling Mac's number.

It rang at least five times before he answered, clearly distracted. _"Taylor."_

"Hey, it's Angell …" Jess began.

"_Ah, she with the luck of the Irish." _Stella's voice teased. _"You had us all worried for a second there, kiddo."_

Jess realised that Mac must have been in the lab and answered on speaker. "Sorry, Stel. And I'm French-Canadian." She reminded her with a smile. "Flack's the Irish one."

"_Same thing."_ Stella sniggered. _"What's up?"_

"I need to talk to Mac in private." Jess told her. "Nothing personal."

"_No problem." _There was a soft click and the sound changed ever so slightly.

"_What happened?" _Mac asked her.

"It's Claire." Jess told him with a grin. "Your wife. She's alive."

**

* * *

AN: I'd like all of you lovely readers to do me a favour if you would. My brother has just posted his first story on this site (A Close Call, by teenXpotter) and I'd be very grateful if you could all mosey on over after you've read this (I do like that word - 'mosey'), because I did give him a slight hand with it and he's bouncing off the walls this morning, so if you could R&R here and then there, that'd be fantastic XD**


	2. Reunion

**Disclaimer: I don't own CSI:NY. I do, unfortunately own Detective Jameson, which is why I shall be quite happily beating him up in chapters to come.  
****Series: None.  
****Spoilers: Season 3, but only because Mac and Peyton had a 'thing'.**

**Due to the fact that my 'Kindred Spirits' series – *cough* shameless pimp *cough* - is currently in its Don/Devon stage and I'm suffering from withdrawal (why, oh why did I decide to follow canon?), this chapter turned out a lot more Flangell-y than I thought it would, but writing Mac/Claire is more difficult than I thought because a) he's hard to read and b) we don't know anything about her. So the next chapter should steer us back onto the actual plot, because my hands sort of took over for this one.**

* * *

Chapter Two – Reunion

It was an impossibly fast time later that Mac's Avalanche pulled into the hospital parking lot. Twenty minutes was the average commute, but when Jess took into account picking Reed up and navigating the inevitable traffic, it was quite impressive.

Jess had stayed outside on the small wall, letting the sun beat down on her face, suddenly appreciating it a lot more than she had that morning. She stood as the doors opened and Mac and Reed jumped out. "She's inside. The doctor's with her."

Mac nodded. "Reed, you remember Detective Angell?"

"Vaguely." Reed shook her hand. "What happened to her?"

Jess led them inside, explaining as they went. She told them the same story she'd told Don, this time not hesitating to mention the detective's condition, needing them to understand.

"I came straight here and apologised to her." Jess added. "I hope she could hear me. I just couldn't …"

Mac stopped her, putting a hand on her shoulder. "It's alright, Jess. None of this is your fault. Have you spoken to him about all this?"

Jess smirked. "No, I thought I'd let you do the honours."

"You don't want to face him." Mac concluded, raising an eyebrow.

Jess dropped her gaze and shook her head. "Don't get me wrong." She murmured. "I'd love to take him to task over this and, if it were anyone else, I would. But he was different from the others. That wasn't the only time he did something like that."

As they reached the long-term ward, Mac directed Reed to a chair, before steering Jess into a corner. "How bad?"

Jess shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself. "Bad. I could deal with sexist comments and him hitting on me; the others all did that. But they were subtle at least. If I was doing paperwork, he was staring down my shirt; if I was at a crime scene, he was staring at my ass. He didn't make any attempt to hide it and then …"

"Did he ever touch you inappropriately?" Mac asked.

Jess hesitated, then shook her head. "I don't think so, no." She willed her voice not to shake. "Well, not what the book calls inappropriately, anyway. He'd touch my hand, stroke my hair …"

"Flack does that as well." Mac pointed out.

Jess shuddered again. "Don't compare them, Mac, please. It's different. When Don does it, he either doesn't realise he's doing it or he's being affectionate. When Jameson did it … it was like marking his territory or something; I hated it. Used to dread working with him."

"Did you ever report it?" Mac asked.

Jess laughed. "As if! It would've come down to my word against his and, in that precinct, it was very clear who they'd have believed."

The doctor came out at that moment, much to Jess's relief, and the conversation was benched. She cleared her throat. "Mac, this is Dr. Kevin Michaels. Dr. Michaels, Detective Mac Taylor, Claire's husband, and Reed Garret, her son."

Dr. Michaels shook their hands. "I'm sorry this didn't happen years ago."

"Not your fault." Mac told him. "How is she?"

"Good." Michaels assured him. "A bit groggy, but she just came out of an eight-year coma so I wouldn't expect anything less. She's weak as well, and it will take her at least a few months to get her strength back. Detective Angell said you live in New York, so I'll start the paperwork to have her transferred."

"Thank you." Mac said, his eyes straying to the door.

The doctor noticed. "Go ahead." He said. "Just try not to overwhelm her."

"So no Irish gang, Cabbie killer or hostage-taking bank-robber." Jess concluded. "I'm sure there's more, but that's definitely the worst."

"You go in first, Mac." Reed told him, turning to Jess. "Does she know?"

"She knows you're around." Jess answered, watching Mac walk in. "And she knows you're a journalist. I told her you could be a thorn in our side if you wanted to. She looked very proud."

"Jess."

Jess turned round to see Don standing there. "Hey." Her heart dropped at the expression on his face. "How much of that conversation with Mac did you hear?"

"Most of it." Don answered quietly. "I think we need to talk."

* * *

Claire was under strict orders from Doctor Michaels not to attempt sitting up. That didn't stop her from reaching out though, and that's what she did as soon as Mac was close enough to grab her hand.

"Oh, Claire," he whispered, kissing her forehead. "I'm so sorry."

Claire didn't ask why. She wasn't an idiot and she had realised just by looking at him that she'd been believed dead; after eight years, she would have hoped he'd move on. But she wasn't dead and she had to ask …

"Now?"

"No." Mac murmured into her hair. "Not for over two years. And only once."

"Who?"

"One of our MEs. Peyton. She moved back to London."

Claire sighed in something close to relief that she wouldn't have to deal with that. "I love you, Mac."

"I love you too Claire." Mac whispered, not sitting up.

She buried her face in his collar, breathing in the familiar scent.

When the ground had started shaking and the explosions had started, Claire had tried to stay calm, but she hadn't been able to help the dark thoughts that she would never see her husband again.

Somehow her prayers had been answered.

It took more energy that she felt it should, but she was finally able to lift her arms enough to wrap them around him, as she began crying softly.

One day, she'd tell him what it was like … but right now all she could do was cry.

* * *

Jess didn't say a word as Don steered her out of the hospital and into the bright sunlight of the parking lot. Her heart was racing as his words replayed in her head.

"_I think we need to talk."_

He couldn't blame her, could he?

_He could. _A dark voice said in the back of her head. _Or maybe he doesn't believe you._

Unbidden, Detective Jameson's words floated into her head, as clear as the day she'd first threatened to report his behaviour.

"_What makes you think anyone would believe you? Listen, doll-face, your name might've been enough to carry you through the Academy, but you do __not__ belong in this precinct and you do __not__ belong in the Force. Your job is to do what I fuckin' tell you, alright? And, yeah, if that means gettin' on your knees, you fuckin' do it."_

Jess could still remember the feeling of being trapped up against a wall in the locker room at the end of the day, shoving him away and running, not stopping until she reached her apartment, slamming the door behind her, sure that he would follow her.

He never had, but that fear came back to her now.

"Jess?" Don took her hand as she began shaking and sat her down on a bench. "Jess, talk to me."

"I'm sorry." Jess whispered, her breath hitching. "I'm so sorry. I swear to God I'm telling the truth, Don; I can't face him …"

"Jess …" Don pulled her into his arms and held her tightly, running his fingers through her hair.

"He scared the hell outta me, Don." Jess admitted in a low voice, her earlier fears receding as he embraced her.

"You lied to Mac, didn't you?" Don asked.

Jess pulled away. "No."

"Look at me, Jess." Don cupped her face. "And tell me the truth. Did he ever touch you inappropriately?"

Jess bit her lip and nodded. "He used to grab my ass in the locker room … push me up against the wall … try to kiss me … I used to have to physically fight him off." Even as she said it, it sounded trivial to her ears and she was relieved when his expression didn't change – if anything it got darker.

"Why didn't you report it, Jess?" Don asked.

Jess swallowed hard and quoted his warning, followed by her fear that one day she would be forced to obey; that he wouldn't back off and she'd have to endure whatever sick plot he had in mind.

"Even when I got Detective and I had to go back into the precinct to empty my locker …" Jess whispered. "Everyone else congratulated me, but he caught up with me in the locker room and said …"

"_This doesn't change anything, doll-face. Fuck knows how you got a promotion, but you're still only good for one thing and it ain't bein' a cop. Your life'll be exactly the same at NYPD; trust me."_

"That son of a bitch." Don whispered, pure cold fury in his eyes. "I swear to God, Jess, I get my hands on this guy and I'll beat some sense into him for you." He kissed her forehead. "You are one of … come to think of it, you're _the_ best cop I've ever worked with. You're smart and compassionate; you can handle a gun better than me … I know I wasn't the only one whose heart stopped this morning."

Jess breathed a soft sigh and rested her head on his shoulder. "I love you, Don."

"I love you too, Jessie." He whispered. "I love you so much."

"Don," Jess murmured. "Would you think any less of me if I asked you to go and tell him to fuck himself for me?"

"No." Don grinned. "In fact, I was hoping you would."

"He'll think I'm too scared to face him though." Jess sighed.

"We have a Jersey connection to the guys who shot Serena." Don told her, tracing random patterns on her sleeve. "I need to go to the precinct anyway. I can kick his ass while I'm there."

"You don't have to …" Jess began.

"Yeah, I do." Don cut her off. "No one gets away with treatin' my girl like that."

"Possessive." Jess muttered, leaning into him.

"You know it." Don stood up and pulled her to her feet at the same time. "But it's only because I'm crazy about you." He cupped her face and kissed her softly. "I need you to know that."

"I do." Jess assured him.

"No, I don't think you do." Don wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her against him. "I realised this morning that I don't tell you how I feel about you enough. When I tell you that I want you and I love you, I mean all of you." He kissed her forehead. "Your mind … your heart … your smile …" He grinned at her. "Admittedly the fact that you're smokin' hot and the most beautiful woman I've ever met places pretty high." He sighed, a little shakily. "I don't know how I'd have coped if that was you this morning."

Jess kissed him softly, reassuring him that everything that had happened that morning had just been a horrible case of mistaken identity. "It's alright." She whispered. "I'm still here." She smiled. "You're not normally this open in public."

"Only because you want to keep it out of the precinct." Don grinned at her, taking an accusation from his words. "If it was up to me, I'd go to the top of the Empire State Building with a bullhorn and announce to the city how much I love you."

Jess giggled. "No, you wouldn't."

"I would." Don insisted. "You got a bullhorn; I can go now if you want."

Jess rolled her eyes and dragged him back towards the hospital. "Come on."

"Hey." Don tugged her back towards him. "You know I'd never embarrass you like that, right?"

"I know." Jess assured him with a smile.

"Good." Don slipped an arm around her waist, and they carried on, back towards Claire's room. "I just don't mind if everyone knows we're together. Because as far as I'm concerned, that makes me the luckiest guy on the planet."

Jess felt her face heat up. "I wouldn't say the luckiest …"

"I would." Don kissed her forehead. "We've gotta do something about your ego, Jessie. I don't care if I have to sit you down every morning for the rest of our lives, tell you you're beautiful and amazing and that I love you and that there are hundreds of other guys who'd kill to be with you … At some point, I'm gonna make you believe it."

"I do believe it." Jess assured him.

And, for the first time in her life, she did.

**

* * *

AN: Ahem, for those of you who wish to join in the Jameson-bashing, kindly form an orderly queue (if you're British, you should have had a lot of practice lol) and suggest ways for Don to kick his ass without a) actually killing him and b) getting himself fired. Points will be given for originality and overall career-damaging potential (damaging for Jameson, that is, not Don), but deducted for excessive violence. The occasional punch will be allowed, as long as it is within view of at least three witnesses who support Flack's actions whole-heartedly.**


	3. Confrontations

**Disclaimer: I don't own CSI: NY.  
****Series: None.  
****Spoilers: General spoilers for Season 5.**

* * *

Chapter Three – Confrontations

When Jess and Don reached Claire's hospital room, Reed was still sitting outside.

"What are you waiting for?" Jess asked.

"Wanna give 'em some time." Reed muttered. "And I'm kinda nervous."

"She wants to see you." Jess assured him with a smile, peering through the door. She knocked softly and pushed it open. "Hey."

"Hey." Mac greeted. "Guess I don't need to introduce you two."

Don cleared his throat from behind her.

"Oh, Claire, this is Detective Don Flack." Mac added.

"He the one that's very good at his job but if you separate him and Messer too long they start getting very irritating?" Claire asked, her eyes twinkling.

Mac looked a little sheepish. "Yes, I think that is how I described him."

"Good memory." Jess complemented.

"I'm making up for lost time." Claire smiled.

Don rolled his eyes. "It's nice to meet you, Claire. There's …" He jerked his head at the door.

"Why's he waiting out there?" Mac asked.

"Nerves." Jess answered cheerfully, returning to Reed's side, seizing his arm and pulling him to his feet. "In you go, kid."

Mac moved back a little, but didn't leave his wife's side.

"Hi." Claire greeted in a whisper, as she set eyes on her son for the first time since he was born.

"Hi." Reed returned shyly. "Mom."

Seeing that they were both nervous and a little unsure how to go about this, Claire lifted her arm and beckoned him over.

Jess and Don respectfully stepped out of the room as Reed hurried to his mother's side and hugged her.

"Now what?" Jess asked softly.

Don kissed her forehead. "I'm headin' over to the precinct to talk to them about our shooter. I'll fill them in on this while I'm there."

"Don," Jess called as he started down the hall, "I can handle this myself."

They both knew it wasn't a plea to let her come along; they both knew that there was nothing he could do to stop her.

She just needed him to know that, if he wasn't there, she _could _do it.

"I can do it." She repeated. _I don't need you to rescue me._

"I know." Don said simply. _I'm doing this because I want to, not because I need to._

"You remind me of me and Claire." Mac commented from behind her.

Jess didn't answer for a few minutes, watching Don vanish into the elevator. "How so?"

"You don't need the words." Mac answered simply. "Danny and Lindsay – they need the words. They love each other, but they need to be talk things out. You and Don don't need to say anything; you just know what the other person means. Like just now."

Jess smiled. "You read between the lines, huh?"

Mac nodded. "You're a good fit."

* * *

When Don reached the precinct, he was surprised to find Lieutenant Scythe in the captain's office.

"Ah, Jack," Scythe said when he appeared at the door, "this is Detective Don Flack. Flack, this is Jack Browning; precinct captain."

"Pleasure." Don shook his hand. "What …?"

"We need to look for someone to cover Carter's cases." Scythe told him grimly.

Don frowned. "You're replacing Serena already?"

"Brass is making noises." Scythe sighed, nodding to the extra chair. "Besides, I'm not replacing her; I'm replacing Cooper. He's retiring; that's why we hired Carter in the first place. Sit."

Don sat down. "You know I already work for you, right, sir?"

Scythe chuckled. "Yeah. Be nice to have your input though. What brings you here?"

"CSIs got a fingerprint match on one of the bullets at the diner to a Simon Cade." Don explained. "There's a warrant out with Jersey PD. Angell was following up a cold case at the hospital so I came over in person. Figured I could kill two birds with one stone."

"Why not let Angell chase your lead if she was already here?" Scythe asked knowingly.

Don groaned. "You're not gonna make me say it, are you?" His boss's expression didn't change and he sighed. "Fine. For a minute, I thought I was Jess in that diner this morning; I guess I needed to see she was okay for myself."

"Wait; we talking about Jessica Angell?" Browning cut in. "Used to work here?"

"That's the one." Scythe confirmed. "Thanks for sending her over by the way; I owe you one."

Don cleared his throat. "Can I kill the other bird now?"

"Go ahead." Scythe told him.

"I need to talk to Detective Jameson." Don said.

"Now that's a coincidence." Scythe commented. "That's who I was thinking of moving over."

_Not on my watch. _"That's not a good idea, sir." Don stated coldly. "You'd be down a homicide detective if you do. Jess won't work with him again."

"What's Angell got to do with it?" Scythe asked, sounding bewildered.

Before Don could answer, there was a knock at the door.

"Come in." Browning called.

A heavyset man in his late forties entered. "You wanted to see me?"

"Ah, yes." Browning nodded. "Steve, this is Lieutenant William Scythe and Detective Don Flack from NYPD. Gentlemen, Detective Steve Browning."

Don nodded to him with Scythe shook his hand.

"Flack, you needed to talk to him first." Scythe prompted.

Don realised that Scythe wanted to sound out the man before offering a transfer and he was alright with it. "You remember a case that came in September 12th 2001?"

"That was a long time ago, Flack." Jameson pointed out. "You expect me to remember?"

"Woman walked into Jersey City General Hospital?" Don reminded him. "Couldn't even remember her own name? You put it down as a fall; Officer Angell disagreed but you wouldn't listen."

"Oh yeah." Jameson nodded. "It was a fall. Girl didn't know up from down when it came to the job, know what I mean?"

Don clenched his jaw and willed his temper to stay calm. "Well, she's woken up and _Detective_ Angell was absolutely right; she came from Ground Zero. Which you'd have known if you'd sent her clothes to your crime lab or run her picture any further than Jersey City; she's the wife of one of our CSIs. You didn't even run her DNA, for God's sake."

"The information I had pointed to a trip or fall." Jameson insisted.

"And Angell never suggested Ground Zero?" Don pressed.

Jameson shrugged. "She mighta done. But if she really thought that was the answer …"

"She should've slept with you." Don finished scathingly. "Because that's the condition she said you gave."

He regretted it immediately, but he was also expecting Jameson to deny it.

"Look, she didn't belong here; just because her last name's …"

"That's my partner you're talking about." Don warned in a low voice.

Jameson snorted. "Good luck. Girl like that's only good in two places; on her back and on her knees."

That was it.

Standing up, Don unclipped his badge from his belt. "Hold this, Lieutenant?"

Their eyes met and Scythe gave him a nod, taking his shield from him.

"Thanks." Turning back to Jameson, Don raised his hand and punched him.

Hard.

There was a loud crunch as his fist collided with his nose and Jameson stumbled backwards, clutching his face in pain.

With some trepidation, Don turned back to Scythe, who handed him his badge back, his expression unreadable.

"Captain!" Jameson protested when Browning didn't move. "Did you see what he did?"

"Hmm?" Browning looked slightly absent. "Sorry, Detective; zoned out there for a moment. You see anything, William?"

"I was a little distracted, Jack." Scythe confessed. "Your shield needs a clean, Detective Flack. Give Detective Jameson a hand to his feet, would you?"

"Yes sir." Don seized Jameson's arm and hauled him to his feet, taking the opportunity to whisper, "You talk about my girl like that again and I'll make sure it's the last thing you say."

If either captain heard him, they didn't give any indication and Jameson simply nodded.

Don cleared his throat. "You were … er … here for a reason, Lieutenant?"

"Ah, yes …" Scythe hesitated. "You know, I don't think it's necessary to uproot Detective Jameson here. I'm sure we've got an officer we can promote to detective to cover Serena's caseload. What do you think, Flack?"

"I think you're thinking of Officer Wilson, sir." Don agreed, keeping a careful eye on Jameson's reaction. "Detective Angell knows her better, but she's a very good officer."

"Yes." Scythe decided. "We'll do that."

"Wait a minute." Browning interrupted. "I know you said a third grade was killed, but your retiring detective's a first grade. You can't promote an officer straight to first grade."

"He's right, Lieutenant." Don sighed.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jameson straighten up and smirked inwardly, not knowing what Scythe was planning, but trusting that it would deflate the man's over-sized ego.

"Then she can take Detective Angell's place." Scythe suggested. "And we'll move Angell up. Makes more sense for you both to be on the same level anyway."

"But Angell's only a third grade." Browning pointed out. "You can't have her skip a grade."

"I did." Don protested.

"No, he's right." Scythe conceded. "What's Angell's closure rate, Flack?"

"100%, sir." Don answered proudly, getting a withering look in return. "Sorry, sir, we're not allowed to say 100 any more, are we? 99% then."

"That's what I'd say." Scythe nodded. "And how many serials has she helped apprehended since she joined us?"

"Three, sir." Don told him. "Not to mention a serial rapist, a sex-trafficking ring and an antiquities-smuggling gang."

"Damn." Browning sighed. "Is it too late to get her back?"

Scythe laughed. "Sorry, Jack; I'm not losing her."

"Me neither." Don agreed.

"Oh, Flack, wasn't there a reason for you being here?" Scythe asked.

"That's right." Don nodded. "Simon Cade."

"You requested the arrest warrant, Jameson." Browning said.

"We couldn't find him, Captain." Jameson admitted quietly, looking rather like he'd been forced to swallow his own vomit.

Browning's phone rang and he answered it, exchanging a few words with whoever was on the other end. "Dead body." He scribbled down the address. "Jameson, take it. Who was on the Cade arrest with you?"

"Parker, sir." Jameson answered stiffly.

"Send her in." Browning ordered.

_Her. _Don narrowed his eyes, watching Jameson close the door behind him. Then, as nonchalantly as he could, he asked, "Does he work with female officers more often than the other detectives?"

"I don't think so." Browning frowned. "Why?"

"He didn't just say things like that to her, did he?" Scythe asked darkly.

Don sighed, mentally deciding that he could deal with how mad Jess would be later. "You should've seen her, Lieu." He shook his head. "I've never seen her like that. I've been her partner for three years – _three years_ – and she told Mac before she told me. She was almost hysterical by the time I got her somewhere quiet so we could talk about it; seemed convinced I wouldn't believe her about it …"

"You think he might have done this to other women." There was no question in his commanding officer's voice.

"I'm sure he has." Don said in a low voice. He finally met Scythe's gaze. "I'll handle it." His eyes slid to Browning. "I will."

Browning didn't argue and Don sensed that he'd rather that than call IA in over sexual harassment charges.

There was another knock at the door and the woman that entered stood tall, no signs of duress, except Don knew Jess better than he knew himself, knew the things that gave away her true feelings, and this woman was no different.

Her hands shook almost imperceptibly and there was a hint of fear behind her gaze, although was masked almost expertly.

"Officer Parker, this is Detective Flack with NYPD." Browning nodded to him. "He needs everything you have on Simon Cade."

"Of course." Parker said quietly, not meeting his eyes.

Giving Scythe a look that clearly said 'I told you so', Don followed her, sending a quick text to Jess as he did.

_Call me._

"Is there somewhere quieter we can talk about this guy?" Don asked over the noise of the bullpen.

Parker hesitated. "Erm, sure." She found the file and led him into a conference room, apprehension showing in her movements.

_I don't blame her, if she went through what Jess did. _Don thought, trying not to let his anger at Jameson bubble to the surface.

As the door closed behind them, his phone rang and he glanced at the number. _Right on time._

He gave Officer Parker a smile. "Sorry, I gotta take this."

"Sure." She smiled weakly.

"Hey, Detective." Don greeted.

"_Hey, what's up?"_

"Well, first of all, Scythe's right behind you." Don told her.

Jess's sigh of relief was audible even over the cellphone's reception. _"Thank God. He believed me?"_

"Of course he believed you." Don assured her. "Jameson's a sexist, chauvinistic pig, Jess; he didn't even deny it." He noticed Parker look up now, shock evident in her eyes.

"_Why did you want me to call you?"_ Jess asked. _"Why not call me yourself?"_

"I'm just running down the lead." Don said, ignoring her question. "I'll talk to you later."

"_Got it." _Jess responded, evidently hearing his unspoken promise of a later explanation. _"See you."_

Don hung up. "Sorry about that. My partner." He explained, even though Parker made no move to ask. "She used to work here; had a bit of trouble with one of the detectives. But you knew that. Because he's doing the same thing to you. Am I right?"

Officer Parker hesitated, her hands clenching on the manila folder. "I don't …"

"It's okay." Don said softly, sensing her concern. "You're not gonna be the only woman he's done this to."

"No one else will believe us." Officer Parker said softly. "He …"

"He hasn't got a leg to stand on." Don assured. "I promise. And lemme tell you something, Officer, you're a good actress, but you use the same methods as my partner and I know her better than I know myself; did he threaten you when he sent you in to see the captain?"

"Yes." Parker whispered, tears springing to her eyes. "He did."

Carefully moving Cade's file out from between them, Don placed a hand on her arm. "Tell me."

**

* * *

AN: I've decided there'll be one more, maybe two, chapters to this and then I'm putting it to bed. As for Claire knowing Flack, I find it hard to believe that he wasn't a detective in 2001, given that he was a first grade in 2004. So I figure she'd met/heard of a few of his co-workers.**

**Review please!**


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